


No Love Like Your Love

by muzakchan



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anal, Blow Jobs, Dancing Lessons, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Fluff and Smut, I've never written smut before so this is new, M/M, Smut, Songfic, a little bit, boy this is not G rated at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-30 19:42:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19410076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muzakchan/pseuds/muzakchan
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley agree to take a dance class with Anathema and Newt, and are surprised to find they like being close to one another. Unsurprisingly, this leads to them finding other ways they can be close to one another.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to get this one out of my brain; I'm not usually one for writing explicit content like this, but the idea kept floating around and getting in the way of writing other, more serious things. This has not been beta-ed (we're wingin' this, team), so if y'all see anything that could be improved, please let me know :) I hope you enjoy!  
> Songs referenced: Play the Game, Queen; Nobody, Hozier.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They learn to dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part is mostly plot and fluff, and I think could stand on its own if you just want to read something soft and cute :)

Aziraphale had been most confused when he’d picked up the phone and discovered it was Anathema on the other line. 

“You have to come learn to dance with us,” she’d told him. “Madame Tracy declined, since Shadewell apparently thinks all dance instructors are witches, and Newt doesn’t want to be the only couple there.” 

The angel had spluttered in response. “I don’t have anyone to dance with!” he’d told her. 

Anathema’s silence on the other end spoke volumes. 

“Fine,” he agreed. “When’s the class?” She told him, thanked him, and hung up the phone. 

The next phone call was to Crowley. 

“Angel!” he said when he picked up. “I suppose it is lunchtime; d’you want to do the Ritz again?” 

“Erm, Crowley, no, actually,” Aziraphale searched for the words. “I’m calling to invite you to a dance class.” 

Aziraphale could hear Crowley’s eyebrows raise over the phone. “A _dance_ class? Angel,” he laughed, “ _you_ don’t dance.” 

“Ex _cuse you_ , I dance perfectly well, thank you very much!” 

“Yeah, if it were still 1902!” 

“Well - even old dogs need to learn new tricks,” Aziraphale huffed. 

“Angel, that’s not the -”

“It’s for Anathema and Newt,” he interrupted. “For their wedding.” 

“Ah,” was all Crowley said. 

It was agreed. 

They arrived in Tadfield a week later, Crowley grousing at the helm of the Bentley, but parking it very carefully outside of the dance studio. He’d been extra careful with it since Armageddon; Adam would never know the extent of the favor he’d done for the demon. 

“Shall we?” Aziraphale asked, sounding a bit nervous. 

“C’mon, let’s get it over with,” Crowley replied.

“Oh, Crowley, you don’t need to sound _so_ disappointed.” 

In truth, Crowley did feel nervous, but not because he was worried he would make a fool of himself (he assumed that was a given). No, he was much more nervous because, for the first time in, well, _forever_ , he had an excuse to hold Aziraphale’s hand. _Get a hold of yourself, for fuck’s sake_. 

They entered the building and met up with Anathema and Newt just inside the door. 

“You look lovely,” Aziraphale said. “Both of you.” 

Newt, who had never really had the chance to meet either the angel or the demon, and honestly had forgotten about them a bit since he’d moved in with Anathema, surprised himself by wringing both of their hands. “Thank you _so_ much for coming,” he said, gratefully to Crowley after Aziraphale had gone to talk to Anathema. “I don’t really dance.” 

“Join the club,” Crowley drawled. “I’m only here because angel over there asked me to come.” 

“Sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the ones you love,” Newt said; he’d read that in a newspaper a few weeks ago, and found it quite poignant. 

Crowley found himself nodding in agreement. When he fully processed what Newt had said, however, he crossed his arms. “Oh, come off it.” 

The instructor arrived - he was an older gentleman in his 50’s who looked surprised to find there were two couples in his studio rather than one. Anathema talked him down, sliding him an extra $30, and then the lesson began. 

As far as dance classes go, this was an incredibly basic one. They were learning the waltz, which was great for Anathema (since she’d learned the dance years ago) and terrible for Newt, who turned out to be better on his feet than expected, but still resembled a newborn deer. His glasses only served to make him look more doe-eyed as his fiance twirled him around the room. 

It was plain to anyone watching that they were quite in love. 

Aziraphale and Crowley danced on the opposite side of the ballroom, both of them quite bored. The angel was quite skilled in the gavotte, and wished there was more partner passing; Crowley was vacillating between wishing there was more hip movement and trying desperately to keep his hips away from the angel. His nervousness fluttered in his chest and he was worried if he got too close, Aziraphale would be able to tell something was wrong. 

“Excellent form!” the instructor complimented them. “Though your back hand should be closer to _here_.” He took Crowley’s hand, moving it from the middle of Aziraphale’s back to his shoulder blade. Crowley could feel the angel’s wing rustle at his touch. “Right on your partner’s shoulder blade - more control that way.” 

Crowley’s lost any control he had over his thoughts for a moment, but reigned it in as best he could. The instructor walked away. 

“Is - is that alright, angel?” he asked, unable to make eye contact. Thankfully, his sunglasses made it difficult to tell. 

“Quite comfortable, my dear,” Aziraphale smiled, stepping in time to the beat. Crowley could swear there was a bit more color in his cheeks. 

* * *

The demon complained on the ride home; he felt Aziraphale owed him that after they discovered that the dance class was actually a _series_ of classes and they were hooked for another five weeks of classes. 

“Aziraphale, we just _wasted_ an hour of our lives!” he hollered over the music blasting from the Bentley’s speakers. It was Schubert’s _Play the Game_. 

“We didn’t _waste_ an hour of our lives, we were helping out a friend!” Aziraphale countered. “Plus we’re immortal - what does it matter?” He had quite enjoyed the class. 

Crowley groaned. The nervous feeling had spread from his chest out to his extremities, and he was worried his hand would twitch and they would careen off the road. He took his hands off the steering wheel and pressed his fingers into his temples. 

“ _Crowley!_ ” Aziraphale admonished. 

“What?” 

The angel huffed. “Either drive the speed limit or put your hands back on the steering wheel. Heaven knows what’ll happen to us if we’re discorporated now.” 

Crowley made a face at Aziraphale that he didn’t see, and placed one hand back on the steering wheel. “I’ll discorporate you,” the demon muttered under his breath. 

If Aziraphale heard him, he gave no indication. He was looking out the window as they left Tadfield behind and started the journey back to London. 

Crowley always got nervous when they left Tadfield. One of these times, the angel was bound to notice that the sparks of love weren’t entirely gone after they passed the city’s boundaries. 

Aziraphale was singing along absentmindedly to the song playing over the speakers. “ _Don't play hard to get, it's a free world. All you have to do is fall in love._ ” He had a beautiful voice. Crowley’s thoughts began to wander into uncomfortable territory again, so he pulled himself back with a complaint. 

“I’m just saying - if they wanted it to be interesting, we would have been dancing to better music.” 

“What, like this?” Aziraphale motioned at the speakers. 

“Well, yeah!”

“Crowley,” he said with a smile. “The instrumental music is part of it! You can’t dance the waltz to…” he searched for the word. “ _Bee-bop_ ,” he landed on. 

“You were just singing along! And maybe I don’t want to do the waltz!” His mind conjured up images of dances where you could be against your partner, pressing your against theirs; where the intention was to be close to them. _That’s what I want._ He swallowed hard. 

“Well,” Aziraphale blustered. “We’re in this for another five weeks. We’ll get through it.” He smiled at the demon. “Together.” 

Crowley blushed. “Yeah, fine, alright.” 

* * *

Crowley found that he liked certain parts of the dance lessons better than others. For starters, he and Aziraphale would trade off who would be the lead, and there was a pit deep in his stomach that would open whenever Aziraphale was the one to push him around the dance floor. He also enjoyed a move they learned later on which required him to slide one of his legs between Aziraphale’s and use a bit of hip motion to signal the angel to turn. He’d needed to go home and be alone for a while after that lesson. 

When it came down to it, Aziraphale quite enjoyed the act of dancing. Crowley didn’t fully understand _why_ it was so important to people, but he was happy to be there with Aziraphale (though he’d never admit it). 

After the final class had commenced, Anathema came over to them. "We did it! Thank you so much for coming with us - it means the world." 

Newt joined her, and thanked them both profusely. "I think I may stand a chance at the wedding now," he smiled. His labor had not gone unnoticed - he'd gone from looking like a newborn deer to an adolescent deer. It was a marked improvement. 

"Happy to help, of course," Aziraphale smiled in return. 

"Actually," Anathema began. "We are starting another class next week -" 

"Ah, would you look at the time!" Crowley suddenly exclaimed. "Let's go angel!" 

"What? What for -" 

"That thing!" He leaned in. "Work with me, angel." 

"Oh!" Aziraphale leaned back, looking at the engaged couple. "Terribly sorry! We have a…" he looked back at Crowley. "A…" He implored Crowley to say something - _anything._

"A date!" Crowley said. 

Aziraphale, who had begun to turn back to Anathema and Newt, suddenly whipped back around to him. “A _date_?” Now it was the angel’s turn to feel the nervous flutter in his chest. 

Crowley nodded, raising his eyebrows. Aziraphale took the hint, turned back to the human couple and confirmed. “A date!” 

"Oh, of course, sorry to keep you!" Newt apologized. 

"Of all the engagements you could have picked, you chose a _date_?" Aziraphale asked when they'd gotten back into the Bentley. 

"I panicked!" Crowley said. He was being entirely truthful. 

"You're always cool under pressure!" Aziraphale threw back at him. 

"Well…!" He had no response to that accusation that didn't involve explaining many more things. "I'm sorry," he said, sighing. 

Aziraphale sighed in return. "No, no apology necessary my dear. I may have overreacted a bit." He smiled at Crowley. "I never thought I'd hear you say you'd be taking me on a date." 

Crowley gripped the steering wheel. "I didn't say that," he said. 

Aziraphale gave a small laugh. "Well, whatever you want to call it - I'm feeling a bit peckish, and there's a new restaurant in SoHo I've been looking to try." 

The restaurant turned out to be an Italian restaurant which had a lovely terrace on the second floor, overlooking a park. Aziraphale ordered enough food for both of them, and Crowley ordered a bottle of wine. 

"I've quite enjoyed our weeks together," Aziraphale told him over dessert. "I feel like we don't see one another as much as we used to." 

"Angel, are you saying you _miss_ me?" Crowley laughed, hoping for a positive answer but was feeling a bit jaded after 6000 years of negative ones. 

Aziraphale, who had drunk an entire bottle of wine on his own, blushed. "We've been… well, I quite enjoy your company, as it turns out." He took a bite of tiramisu, and waved his fork at Crowley, whose mouth had fallen open a bit in surprise. "Oh, don’t look at me like that - I'm just as surprised as you are! Bite?" The angel offered his fork with a spot of his dessert to Crowley, and he took it. It was better than he expected; there was alcohol _in_ the food! He closed his eyes and made a small hum of enjoyment.

A shiver went through Aziraphale that started from his ears and ended somewhere in his pelvis. Between the wine and the food, he was feeling quite nice; having Crowley here enjoying the evening with him was, well, like the dusting on his tiramisu. 

Aziraphale realized he was still staring at Crowley around the same time Crowley realized Aziraphale was still staring at him. "What? Do I have something on my face?" the demon asked, wiping around his mouth preemptively. 

Aziraphale smile widened. "No, not at all, my dear." 

Crowley asked for the check. 

They left, heading back to Aziraphale's bookshop. The angel leaned heavily on Crowley, clearly more intoxicated than he let on in the restaurant. 

Aziraphale was the first to hear the music; a lovely lilting song drifted on the night air, reaching the two celestial beings. 

"Oh, Crowley," Aziraphale looked up at him. "This is beautiful." 

Crowley looked down at the angel, wrapped in one of his arms. Suddenly, he _understood_ why people danced with one another; why they worked so hard learning and practicing boring steps to boring music. It was about the _connection._ "Aziraphale," he said softly, sliding his hand off the angel’s shoulder and onto his shoulder blade, "will you dance with me?" 

Aziraphale’s smile could have lit several small towns. "I would be honored," he said. 

They didn't do the waltz. Well, they tried, but the song lilting through the air was the wrong time signature. Eventually, they ended up swaying in place, Crowley's hands wrapped around Aziraphale's waist, and Aziraphale's hands around his neck. It felt so natural. 

The lyrics of the song drifted by Crowley's ears, and he caught a few of them. "I _'d be appalled if I saw you ever try to be a saint /_ _I wouldn't fall for someone I thought couldn't misbehave / But I want you to know that I've had no love like your love_."

Perhaps it was the way the setting sun was streaming through Aziraphale's hair, appearing for all the world like a halo. Perhaps it was the way in which their bodies seemed to fit together as they swayed. Perhaps it was the music, perfectly in tune with Crowley's overwhelming feelings. Or perhaps it was the two bottles of wine Crowley had drunk on his own. Whatever the reason, Crowley placed his hand on Aziraphale's cheek, crossing the line they’d set ages ago, and leaned in close.

Aziraphale stiffened for a moment, out of sheer surprise. Crowley stopped millimeters from his lips. "Is this alright?" he asked. 

The angel took a deep breath, and then responded by closing the gap between them, releasing 6000 years of pent up affection, lust, and of course, love. 

"Get a room!" someone called, distracting them. 

Crowley pulled away, breathless, nearly convinced this was a fever dream. Aziraphale looked just as stunned, but a tempting smile was growing on his face. He played with the ends of Crowley's collar. "Erm,” he began, voice low. “You know, my bookshop is only a block away. Would you like to…?" 

"Angel, are you asking me to come home with you?" 

"I do believe I am, my dear." He kissed the back of Crowley's hand and looked up at the demon. "Although I do believe we'll need to sober up first." 

"Lead the way, then." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They give in to temptation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's where the explicit content kicks in - I think you could probably read the first half as a contained story on it's own, but if you're Here For It, then you've come to the right place. There's still softness and fluff (because I am soft), but it's scattered amongst the smut.

Aziraphale's bedroom was the polar opposite of Crowley's, in that it looked like the angel lived in it. Stacks of books surrounded the bed, which was haphazardly made, with a plate on one of the bedside tables. 

Crowley wouldn't notice these details until much later in the evening, when all was said and done; he was too distracted by _things_ Aziraphale was doing to him. 

"Oh, _fuck_ , angel," he whispered. His shirt was off, and Aziraphale was slowly kissing his way down Crowley's collar bone. He'd spent years, decades, _centuries_ imagining what it would feel like for Aziraphale to touch him like this, but the actual act was short circuiting his brain. He could feel his cock straining against his tight pants, begging to be set free. 

"Not yet, my dear," Aziraphale whispered, "but we'll get there." He moved his hand over Crowley's cock, adding enough pressure to make Crowley groan. 

" _Please,_ angel. Don't make me beg."

Aziraphale smiled wickedly. "My dear, you tempted me for 6000 years - I think you can handle twenty minutes." 

Crowley gritted his teeth, but knew deep down this was exactly what he wanted. 

Aziraphale kissed all the way down Crowley's stomach to the top of his pants, leaving a trail of kisses that scorched the demon’s skin. He kissed one of Crowley’s hip bones, poking out over the top of his pants. “I think,” he murmured into Crowley’s skin, “that these should come off.” 

Crowley snapped his fingers, removing his clothing. Aziraphale looked up for a moment, frowning slightly. “Well, that’s no fun,” he said. 

“I’m sorry - would you like me to put them back on?” He was silenced by Aziraphale wrapping a hand around his stiff cock. “ _Jesus_ ,” he breathed.

“Blasphemy, my dear,” Aziraphale tutted, sliding his hand slowly down to the base of the demon’s shaft. “You are absolutely _beautiful_ ,” he said, leaning down. Crowley’s heart felt like it was going to burst from his chest. “And I have been waiting for this for _so_ long.” 

Before Crowley could fully process what the angel meant, Aziraphale placed his lips on the head of his cock, giving it a chaste kiss. Crowley felt like he was going to implode; where had the angel _learned_ this? He was absolutely and utterly distracted by Aziraphale’s tongue against the underside of his cock, teasing the most sensitive bit at the base of his head, while his hand (which was miraculously lubricated) began to slide up and down the rest of his shaft. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Aziraphale wrapped his lips around the head of Crowley’s cock, and took him completely into his mouth. 

Crowley couldn’t help it; his hips bucked up off the bed and he tangled his hands in Aziraphale’s hair, pulling the angel down onto his cock. He’d had blowjobs before, but this? This was not _just_ a blowjob - this was a consummation; the signing of a deal made a thousand years ago, finally answering the question he’d held so close to his heart for so long. He felt terrified and so very _alive_. 

His orgasm began to build, but he held off on stopping the angel until the last possible moment. “Angel,” he finally choked, pulling his hips away slightly. 

Aziraphale resurfaced, but continued to slide his hand, tantalizingly slowly, up and down Crowley’s shaft. He looked up at the demon, and for a moment, Crowley thought he was going to finish right then and there. The sight of the angel - _his_ angel - with his hair mussed and eyes bright, cheeks red and lips plump almost sent him careening over the edge. Crowley put his hand on Aziraphale’s cheek and said the words he’d been longing to say. 

“I want to feel you inside of me.” 

“Oh, my _dearest_ ,” Aziraphale lit up. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

They shifted so Crowley was on his back, allowing him to still be kissed, at Aziraphale's request. Aziraphale trailed his hand between Crowley's legs, coming to rest with one finger pressed against his entrance. The angel swirled his finger a bit, adding lubricant. Crowley felt like he was going to burst. 

"Angel, I swear to God - stop being a tease and _fuck me_." 

The angel did as he was told, pressing his finger into the demon and taking his breath away. One finger quickly became two, then three, working him open, both of them enjoying every second of it. Crowley's mouth was open, lips red from kissing and his body was flushed - Aziraphale had never seen anything so beautiful. He curled his fingers, brushing up against the _spot_ , and Crowley gasped. His cock twitched. Aziraphale did it again, and Crowley gripped the angel's arm. 

Crowley was fighting tooth and nail to keep going as long as he could, but Aziraphale has found the most sensitive part of him, and if he kept going, Crowley would lose the fight. He conveyed all this through a look and a whine. 

Aziraphale removed his fingers, leaving Crowley empty and wanting. He placed the head of his own cock against Crowley and pushed, losing himself in the sensation of entering his love. These human bodies were so sensitive when aroused; the feelings were overwhelming. He pressed completely into Crowley, coming to rest at the hilt. 

They looked at each other for a moment, gasping, smiling. Aziraphale allowed Crowley a moment to adjust to the sensation of being _so_ full; he used that time to kiss the demon - _his_ demon - over and over again. 

Aziraphale kissed his forehead and whispered something Crowley didn’t catch. He then kissed Crowley’s brow, nose, cheekbones, and sides of his mouth, repeating the same thing after each kiss. Then Aziraphale’s mouth was aligned with his own and they were kissing, a deep, soulful kiss, that nearly finished Crowley off then and there. Aziraphale whispered again, and Crowley caught it - “I love you, _ineffably_.” 

Crowley only had time to whisper “ _Angel,_ ” before Aziraphale pulled back, almost all the way out, and slammed back into Crowley. The demon let out a slew of curse words, throwing his head back. Aziraphale repeated the motion, feeling Crowley squeeze around his cock, building tension in his pelvis - it wouldn’t be long now. 

He wrapped his hand around Crowley's cock, stroking it as he drove back in. 

Crowley could feel his own orgasm building again, but wanted one last thing. "Aziraphale," he gasped between thrusts. "Tell me again!" He clutched onto the angel’s arms. 

Aziraphale placed his forehead against Crowley’s, thrusts becoming more erratic. "I love you, I love you, I love -" Aziraphale gasped as he reached his peak, his body locking up as his orgasm hit. Crowley wasn't far behind, the angel's words and hands putting him over the edge, using his legs to hold Aziraphale as close to him as he could. 

After a while, when they had both caught their breath, they disentangled themselves. One of them cleaned up the mess, the other made sure they had water nearby, and then they retangled themselves, Crowley curling up in Aziraphale's arms under the covers. The angel began to run his fingers absentmindedly through Crowley's hair. 

“I love you too you, you know,” Crowley told him, tracing a line between the freckles on Aziraphale’s skin, making constellations out of the random patterns. "But out of curiosity: how long have you been in love with me?" 

Aziraphale laughed. "I _knew_ I was in love with you when you saved my books," he said, kissing the top of his head. "But I can't say when exactly I fell in love with you. It sort of just… happened." He looked down at Crowley. "How about you?" 

Crowley felt a sudden urge to lie. "I…" then he decided against it. "You know when I asked you in the Garden of Eden where your flaming sword went, and you said that you'd given it away?" Aziraphale nodded, eyes narrowing. "That's when I fell in love with you." 

Aziraphale's mouth fell open. "Anthony J. Crowley!" he admonished. "You have been in love with me for six _thousand_ years and you didn't say anything?" 

"I did today!" he protested. 

Aziraphale chuckled and kissed him. "You're an idiot," he said lovingly. "But we have a lot of time to make up for if it's been six millennia."

"If you think you're leaving this bed for at least the next few days, then I'd say you were the idiot," Crowley said, kissing the angel's chest. He yawned and settled into the angel, closing his eyes. "What was it you said before?" he asked. 

"Before?" 

"You said that you loved me -"

"I love you, ineffably?" 

"That's it. I love you ineffably, angel." 


End file.
